The Meaning of the Moment
by Fossick
Summary: A few young mutants who have recently discovered their powers must use them to embark upon a journey in a desperate effort to rescue a lost friend. They think they're alone in that quest, until a certain band of super heroes cross their path.
1. Chapter 1

He closed his eyes.

A man's coffee cup slipped from his hand, spilling its contents all over his plaid shirt on its descent, and a woman stumbled over a crack in the sidewalk, and a baby cried in her mother's arms because she had dropped her pacifier, and a crow called for a mate on top of a clothes wire, and a dog barked at a cat that jumped on top of a brick wall...all at the same time.

They were minor things.

They were little things

.  
But he saw them.

Not with his eyes, but with his mind. He took a deep breath.

Then he opened his eyes.

And saw it all again.

Not with his mind this time, but with his eyes. The things that he had seen a few seconds before were happening in front of him. The only difference was that they were not happening in true time for him. They were happening slowly, almost in slow motion.

A man hissed in frustration as his coffee cup slipped slowly out of his hand. The woman on the sidewalk slightly yelped as her foot caught slowly in the crack. The baby slowly let a cry be released from its lips as her mother didn't realize that her pacifier was now on the floor. The crow flew slowly up on the wire, and slowly tilted its head awkwardly from side to side and cried, "Caw!" The cat tensed its muscles in slow motion, and leaped with agility onto the brick wall where the small dog could not follow it. The dog slowly opened his mouth and barked furiously at it.

Suddenly time snapped to attention in his mind. The busy New York square bustled with people attending to their individual business. Sound once again resumed its normal place in his mind.

Jonathan Manton breathed a quick breath outwardly then back in as he sought to use his martial arts training to clear the dizziness from his brain. He blinked his eyes rapidly for one second, readjusted the straps that held his heavy backpack to his shoulders, and continued his short march to school.

Jonathan had recently discovered that he was a part of a particular "species" of beings on this world that most of the rest of the world feared and hated. He was a mutant.

He walked quickly passed a man selling fruits on the side of the street and turned a corner with an opening that led to clearing of buildings ahead of it.

He guessed he should've been afraid of his discovery. Some people would have him believe that he should even go so far as to being ashamed of himself. However he did not think in those terms. He never had anything against mutants before, especially ever since he learned that his little brother was one of them. Perhaps, if he had had the choice, he might've chosen to remain "normal," but he would accept the fact that he wasn't anymore. He didn't find this to be a set back for him, and he had reason to believe that he never would. Life would go on. Besides he usually looked at the bright side of things. By being a mutant he could do things that no one else he knew, other than his brother, could do. It was by holding practices with himself, such as the one he had held this morning, that he learned those things. He guessed that he had only begun to discover his power.

Jonathan thought of his brother and his power to generate and control fire. It had shocked his entire family when they had learned of his unique ability. However his family never held any prejudice against mutants either. They had accepted the truth. They had moved on. And since that day, they had shown no signs of showing him any less love or care. The same had happened with Jonathan when his family had found out that he had the power to see little bits into the future. They had accepted it in stride, and moved on. He would move on as well.  
Where was his little brother, come to think of it? He was most likely already waiting for him at the steps of his school. Jonathan glanced at his watch. "7:55," he mumbled to himself in concern. His class started at 8:00. He broke into a jog, as he passed the clearing of buildings. Sunlight welcomed him. He looked up while running. It was such a beautiful day.  
Ahead of him, sitting on a hill, was a huge school building. He noticed the sun glistening off its large roof top as he sped up his jog a little. He was going to be late if he didn't hurry. Sidewalks leading up to the school building were filled with children that were as late as he, running on them. Jonathan turned his jog into a run as he neared the building. A feeling of dread crept over him. He seemed to be feeling it a lot more ever since he learned he was a mutant. He wondered what this day had in store for him...


	2. Chapter 2

Jerard Manton tapped his foot on the stone steps of his school impatiently. He had been waiting for 20 minutes. What had happened to his older brother? He shifted his footing on the steps as children who were late for class sped past him. Jonathan better not have sent him off ahead so that he could skip school with out him, he thought to himself. Just because he was 8 years old, 5 years Jonathan's junior, it doesn't mean that he can't skip school with him. Jerard sighed. No, Jonathan wouldn't do that. He included Jerard in almost everything he did. The relationship that he had with his brother exceeded most of the relationships that older brothers had with their siblings. Jonathan considered Jerard his company, his partner, his best friend. Jerard considered Jonathan the same. But then, where was he? He considered going back after him for a brief second, but then saw him running up the sidewalk towards him. Jerard put his hands on his hips, and frowned at him.

"Sorry, man." Jonathan flashed him a guilty smile.

"And what, may I ask, took you so long?" Jerard answered him, pretending to ignore his apology.

Jonathan made a face at him, sighed and said," Just needed to be alone for a while, that's all."

Jerard arched an eye brow at him curiously. "Well, Johnny, it's 7:59 and we're not in school yet. So I, with my limited knowledge, might give the suggestion that we move into the school building and proceed to our assigned class room."

"Fine with me," Jonathan snapped back at him, and then lifted on corner of his mouth into a half smile. He looked to Jerard as if he wanted to laugh. However, Jerard found nothing in this regard funny. He shoved his hands into his pockets, and walked through the opened school door knowing that Jonathan would follow.

He was about half way to his class room when he suddenly stopped, and breathed heavy. He felt abrupt warmth through his entire body, running up from the tips of his toes to head and back down. The warmth in him became heat, and the heat became a fire scorching the insides of his body. He leaned on the wall of the hallway for support, and breathed deeply. The heat was becoming more intense...and more intense. It took all that he had not to simply explode right there and then. He had experienced this before, and the instances were becoming more and more frequent as time passed by. First every week or two, then every day, and now it seemed every other hour. He gasped as he felt a tingling in his fingers, and winced as he struggled to control it. The world was slowly becoming a haze at the corners of his eyes. He suddenly felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, and looked up to see Jonathan peering down at him with a concerned look. He gave Jonathan a weak reassuring smile to tell him that everything was OK. Gritting his teeth, he concentrated as the world came back to him. The blurry haze at the corners of his eyes lifted, and he realized that he was bending over with his hands on his thighs. His lungs were out of air, and his breath was quick. He painfully straightened himself out and began to walk again.

"You sure you're OK?" Jonathan asked as some time passed. They were at the door to their classroom, but paused before entering. The fact that they were late didn't seem to bother Jonathan any more.

"Yeah, I'm fine," answered Jerard. He smiled at Jonathan to thank him for his concern. He felt Jonathan give him a pat on the back as he walked in to face the scrutinizing eyes of his math teacher. Exhaling slowly, he tried to come up with an excuse for being late…again.


	3. Chapter 3

Damien Marks sweated from his forehead and back. The sweat trickled down his whole body. Although he was exhausted, he continued his practice. He then unleashed a combo of deadly attacks with his hands. The fast motion was un-recordable. His swift hands broke the dummy he was using.

Damien had practiced martial arts since he had the ability to remember. Over the years, he had taken and mastered the classes of all the styles of fighting known to him and his resourceful family. He seemed to have the ability to open his mind and learn at a very young age. Not only learn, but never forget what he learns. His family had realized this early in his life, and had taken full advantage of his "talent." Today, he is a black belt of the highest degree in every form known to him, and he reiterates his lessons every moment of the day either mentally or physically.

The sun's rays lit the gym windows and shined on the metal objects in the room. The reflection would have easily temporarily blinded another man, but Damien was something different.

Much different.

Damien felt very hot after his intense workout. His family had bought the gym and he works out in it everyday. Damien picked his towel up and walked to the shower room. The room was humid and wet. The glass in the room was covered in water droplets that had condensed on the windows. He looked outside of the window and saw the sun. The clouds were big and white and the sun's lights reflected off them. He stood looking at the beautiful sky from the window. In order to see he had to wipe the droplets off the window. They quickly came off and melted before they could hit the ground.

The gym was in a large building, a tower really, it was one of the biggest towers in the city. His family had bought the 17th floor, where the gym was located and a personal condo for the owner. The condo was beautiful and full of many things, but he was still in the shower. He thought about all the things that were going to happen to him in the next few days. He was supposed to go to school tomorrow. He was one of those kids that come in late in the school year. He didn't quite know what to expect. His family, rich as they were, never stayed in one place for long. His father owned a company, Mark Industries, and in order to keep it running he had to keep moving to place after place. Damien didn't like this manner of living. Sometimes he just wished that he could be like other kids, without all his money and luxury.

Maybe this school year would be different. Maybe his father would decide to actually stay in one place, perhaps simply for the sake of his son's education. He doubted it.

Damien sighed. He shut off the shower, slipped his towel off its bar, and hastily scrubbed himself with it to make himself dry. He continued thinking to himself. All these years he had gone through life with no one but his family, moving from place to place, never making any connections to anyone or anything. He wished life could be different. He wished he could finally make some friends.

Damien sighed again. It was all wishful thinking. It would probably never happen. He would probably always have to be on the move taking in life with an unfocused eye. Besides, in order for anyone to make it through this world these days, many sacrifices have to be made. Life is never easy, he knew...especially for a mutant.


	4. Chapter 4

Jacob Michaels, also know as Blasts, was in a small town of what appeared to be farms and farm like houses. It was deserted...or, so it seemed. As deserted as the little village seemed, Blast knew he had to be wary. He knew he wasn't really in a village. It was only an illusion. He was in the X-men's danger room, a simulator built to help the X-men prepare for real missions. In here, where practically any situation that a man could think of could easily be created with a touch of buttons, the X-men or anyone in this mansion could practice their fighting and tactical skills with either solid illusions or danger room robots.  
Blasts considered this mansion was his home. He had considered it his home for Almost four years, now. He first came here when he was nine years old after the...accident. Xavier's mansion was a haven dedicated to the proper education and care of mutants. Mutants from all over the world came to New York simply to be a part of it. Most of the people that came here eventually became a part of a crime fighting team dedicated to creating a world where mutants were accepted in this current world of Homo sapiens. A world where Homo Superior were not hated or feared, but were interacted with like fellow humans interacted with each other. Blasts considered him obliged to be part of bringing that dream to reality.

Blasts took a step on the dusty, straw covered road. He tried to keep his steps stealthy and silent as he continued to make his way through the town by way of the main road. The simulated wind whistled past his ears eerily, and the artificial sun was blocked out by a barrage of dark clouds. The originally gray sky darkened somewhat because of this fact, and that added to the depressing mood of a deserted town. Blasts' objective was simply to defeat all the enemy robots in the area. They were programmed, not to hunt, but to await his arrival. They would then use any means nessaccary to defeat him in battle.  
Blasts opened the door to a particularly large village house, and crept silently inside. There was no light in the house. He smelled the musky smell of a barn as he stood there in what seemed to be a basement.

Blasts took in his surroundings as quickly as possible, just as he had been trained to do. There was a dirt streaked window to his left over a table with farm house tools such as saws and hatchets. Light came hesitantly through the window, partially illuminating the dark basement. To his right were more tools of every day farm life, but they were not scattered across the table as the others were. They were hung up all over the expanse of the wall. They wouldn't help him in his mission. He looked in front of him, and saw through the dark a staircase heading upwards. He walked towards it, all the time listening for the sound of robots. The first stair creaked loudly as he gently placed his foot on it. Blasts cringed, ready to greet the enemy. He sighed with relief as no sounds came from above him. He took the second stair with no sound. The third was the same, and so was the fourth. He made it all the way to the fifteenth step. There was only one step ahead of him. He could see the floor he was heading to now. It seemed to be a normal living room. It had a fire place, three windows on the wall. The gray light coming through them made couches, coffee tables, and a TV stand visible. It was a normal living room for a normal family. There were no robots to be seen. He took the last step confidently...it creaked...loud. Blasts gave a start. He looked up quickly to see a green couch lifting off the ground.  
The robots.  
Blasts instincts took over, and he took a fluid role to one side a coffee table missing his head by inches. He took a quick glance at the wall behind him as the coffee table splintered on it. He stood to see the couch that was being picked up before, sailing through the air towards him. He only had a second to act before the solid illusion slammed into him. He had set the danger room settings to its lowest level because there was no one here to save him if the whole simulation decided to kill him for real. However, if the couch hit him, no matter how low the level, it would sting a little. Not only that, but he would lose points.

Blasts straightened as the couch flew towards him. With a mere thought and concentration, a blaze of bright blue light shot out of his eyes at an extreme speed. The second it made contact with the sofa, it practically exploded before him. Splinters of wood and material flew past him, as he stood as straight and tall as he could make himself. The remainder of the sofa fell to the floor. A gigantic hole was in it. Blasts looked up from the sofa. Three robots stood slightly taller than him. Their eyes were ablaze as they targeted him. They began to move in. He was cornered. His only exit, he realized was down the staircase where he had come. Unless he jumped, he would not be able to escape the robots. It didn't matter. He had only requested the computer for three robots, anyway. If he could defeat these three, he would be finished. He just needed to defeat these three...

Blasts took a fighting stance as they closed in around him. They were well programmed in strategic tactics. They knew as well as he did that he had no escape. He had been trained as a brown belt in karate before he had come to the mansion, and had kept up his practice in hand to hand combat. He relaxed his hands at his sides and dropped into a crouch, facing his opponents all at once. He never focused on one opponent at a time. That way, he could tell what each was doing at once. The one right in front of him, the one that had thrown the sofa at him, easily gestured with his hand, lifting it towards Blasts and opening his palm. Blasts knew what it was planning. He made a slight move, forcing his upper body to its left smoothly, and the flash of a stun bolt shot passed his right ear. He allowed himself to take a small pleasure in that victory, but his smile died down as he realized that the robot on his left was coming in with a right handed hook. He made a left center block with his left hand swiftly, stopping the robot's hand in its tracks. He followed this with a crouch and a spin on the floor, sweeping his right leg at the robots, clicking its legs together and dropping it. By crouching, he had saved himself from another stun blast from the robot on his right, who had thrown the coffee table at him. He sensed an attack coming from the center robot, now on his left. He aimed a high kick for its mechanical face. His foot made solid contact, and the robot crashed to the floor, sparks spouting out from it. One down. The robot that he had first felled was now composing itself and standing again.

He spun and delivered a wheel kick with his right leg, hitting the dazed robot in the face. It was knocked on its back once again, but Blasts knew that it wasn't permanently down. Immediately after his striking wheel kick, he leaped into the air and performed a devastating ax kick. He brought his right leg high into the air and brought it back down with incredible speed. His heel struck the downed robot in the chest and sparks flew from it as well. His feet touched the ground, and he fluidly rolled backwards as a kick aimed for his chest by the last standing robot sailed over his head harmlessly. His back roll finished, Blasts quickly turned around to face the robot still crouching low. He freed his leg from under him, and shattered the robots left leg with a deft kick. As the robot fell before him, he stood with the speed of a striking serpent and hammered three incredibly fast karate punches into its chest, and one into its face on its way down. The robot finally hit the ground with a clatter...then all was quiet. The sound of blood pumping in Blasts' ears stopped. He tried to steady his breathing.  
Blasts surveyed the damage that he had made. Three broken robots lay around him in a circle. He smiled to himself, and turned to walk back down the staircase.

He touched down at the landing, and turned towards the door from where he came. He wanted to exit the building in glory before canceling the program. Perhaps that was his downfall.

Blasts put out a hand to grasp the doorknob. When his fingers touched it, he heard a clank behind him. He whirled around to see the last robot teetering on its remaining leg. One of its hands clutched the rail of the staircase to help it balance, and the other was fixed in a position ready to fire a stun bolt at him.  
There was no time to think. Blasts threw himself to his left with all his might. He felt the minor heat of the bolt pass the right side of his face as he did so. Blasts winced in pain as he hit the edge of a metal table with his ribs. The table toppled over and hit the ground with a crash, scattering the tools all over the floor. Jacob felt two more stun shots burst past him. They had barely missed. He dove behind the fallen, metal table for cover.

Stun bolts zinged around him left and right. He felt the heat from them despite their low setting. Blasts heard the steady pounding of the hot bolts against the sheet metal table.  
Pingf.  
Pingf.  
Pingf.  
There was an abrupt pause...then a click and a whir. Blasts cocked his head, listening. He couldn't risk a peek above the table to see what had caused the stop, for fear of getting hit with a surprise bolt. He didn't have to wait long. The sound came back presently.  
Pingf.  
Pingf.  
He braced his back to the table and breathed. How was he going to get out of this one?  
Pingf.  
Pingf...  
Pingf. Pingf.  
Pingf. Pingf. Pingf.  
Blasts frowned. Faster? One of the bolts hit the curtain of the window behind him on his right. He cringed as the heat scorched his right arm...scorched his right arm? PingfPingfPingfPingf. A burst of rapid fire. What? He hadn't programmed the computer to allow rapid fire. He glanced to his right at the curtain. A hole simmered in the thin fabric. The realization hit him in a flash.

Malfunction.

The malfunction was allowing the robot to use all its skills and capacities to take him out. He wouldn't just lose points anymore. He would get physically injured. The bolts could burn him now.  
PingfPingfPingfPingfPingfPingf. His back was getting hot. He leaned forward to avoid getting burned. He had to think fast now. No more time...rush. He would have to rush it. His only hope now was to take it by surprise. He breathed once. Breathed again another short burst of air. He could feel his adrenaline beginning to pump through him, filling him with renewed strength.

Now! With a yell of determination, he sprang over the fallen table, just clearing it. His boots hit the floor, and he paused for one milli-second to attempt to read the robot's reaction. If the robot was at all surprised, it didn't even hint showing it. It simply adjusted the position of its hand from aiming at the table, to where Jacob now stood - Blasts crouched just as two more, now lethal bolts simmered over his head. He pressed the advantage of the miss and hurled himself forward.  
Blasts slammed into the robot with all his weight, and with a grunt from him they both went down. To his delight, Blasts had landed on top of the robot, rather than under it. That would help things a little. However, the robot had already recovered from the shock. It forced Jacob onto his back with one arm, and pinned him there with the other. Then it lifted its free hand, palm outward to fire, aimed straight at his face and - Blasts used all his strength to bat away the deadly hand with his own, griping its wrist with his hand to hold it in a safe position away. Blasts then focused triple fold on the robots face hovering above him...and released all his energy. Through his eyes. A tidal wave of blue energy and force erupted from his eyes. He felt his energy escaping out from him in extreme proportions at a time as the blue cascade continued to rush out. In times like these, when he got all riled up and released all he had, it was very hard to stop it. This time, Blasts was barely able to stay conscious from lack of energy. He literally had to close his eyes just to stop his power from devouring anything more with its sheer power.

Blasts opened his eyes. To his enragement, the robot was still on top of him. Blasts gave a cry of frustration and pushed it. The persistent piece of machinery simply slumped to the floor without a struggle. Blasts frowned in confusion, and looked at the robot more closely. It was missing a head.

Blasts sighed with relief, and slumped down to sit on the floor. His energy was mostly gone, and he barely had enough to sit up. His eyes were hazy. He could barely see through the glaze of them. He closed his eyes, just for a moment. Blasts lifted a hand to wipe sweat off his fore-head and neck. He noticed with some discomfort that it was considerably hotter in the dark little basement. He opened his eyes again. Or not so dark. Through the watery haze that he had to see through he noticed that the once dark, dank basement had turned to a bright dry basement filled with orange colored light. The light was especially bright on the far side of the room, where he had been previously hiding behind the table. He shook his head to clear some of the cobwebs, and his vision cleared a little. The first thing he noticed when he looked back up was that there was a gigantic, 16 wheeler truck-sized hole in the roof. The second thing he noticed was where the source of the light and heat was coming from. Across from him on the other side of the room was a blazing fire.  
Fire.  
No  
"NO!"

Jacob Michaels was back. He was back in his bedroom. He was 9 years old. And he was sleeping. The old feeling of restful, peaceful unconsciousness was securely settled over him once again as it always had.  
Then he opened his eyes slowly. He didn't quite know why. His eyes were suddenly watery and they stung as if they were hit by smoke. He coughed into his hand, and swung his legs over the side of the bed so that his feet touched the hard wood floor of his room. Jacob stood shakily to his feet, and tried to squint through the tears in his eyes to see what was going on.  
It was really hot in his room, he realized. He trudged over to his window and pulled up the shades. It was still dark outside. The New York street below was filled with cars and all the typical lights seen at a time like this one at the city of New York. He was seven stories above the street, but even from this height he could hear the beeps and honks of cars and the sound of the crowd. He opened his mouth to yawn-and choked on smoke. The boy went into a coughing fit, and somehow his head was clearer. He could think easier now, since the sleepiness was wearing off in him. His eyes weren't as blurry. Then he realized what he had seen.  
Jacob quickly turned back to the window and looked out again. The crowd. Now he could see the people forming a small mob-like formation around his apartment building. They were holding up their fists and shouting, looking up at his particular window. He squinted further, and saw that they were also holding up signs and...He realized they had baseball bats, makeshift clubs and flaming torches of the sort. He couldn't read what the signs said from this height, but he knew what the messages were. He didn't need to read the signs. The yelling mob said it all.  
Anti-mutant sentiment.  
Fear was steadily rising inside him. He could already feel his adrenaline causing his muscles to go stiff. Of course, there were other reasons that the crowd could be here. Perhaps they were here to chase off another mutant in...his..building. He swallowed, and tried to tell himself that. He tried, for an instant, to make himself believe it. But in his heart he knew it not to be true. They were indeed here for him. He had always feared that this would happen to him and his family. Ever since he learned he was a mutant. Now, it was finally happening.  
His family.  
He had almost missed the sound of his mother's voice calling behind him, outside his closed bedroom door.  
"Jacob! Jacob, where are you!"  
"Mom!" He screamed at his door so that she could hear. "Mom, I'm here!"  
"Jacob!" She yelled relief obviously in her voice. "Jacob, don't-"  
"Mom, I'm coming out!" He told her, making his way unsteadily across his room to his door.  
"No! Don't-no!" She was warning him, but it was too late. He had already reached the door. He grabbed the metal doorknob-and a hot searing pain shot through his hand. It stayed there for a split second, and then reflex took over, and his hand jerked back. He cried out in pain.  
"Jacob, don't come out! It's on fire! The house is on fire!" He heard his mother again.  
The smoke. Then, it seemed that all his senses snapped to attention. He could now hear the crackling noise of the fire burning fiercely outside his room and behind his door. "Where's Dad?" He called.  
"I'm here, son!" A deep voice answered him. In the voice, Jacob heard a mixture of relief and anxiety.  
"Dad! I'm ok, Dad!" He shouted in an attempt to comfort him. "How do I get out?" The last of his words were covered by the sound of banging and the roaring of fire. Jacob stopped to listen. The shouting was louder. More banging. He realized that they must be outside his front door, trying to get in. He swallowed again, took a deep breath, then shouted again, "Mom, Dad, you need to get out! They'll get you!"  
He sprang back farther away from his door as flames lashed out from the under side, nearly scorching his feet.  
"We can't leave without you, Jacob!" He heard his mom's voice. He winced as the banging and shouting grew more intense. "Mom, you have to! They'll get you! Dad..." He sought for his father's support, but found none of it.  
"No, son. We're not going." He answered him.  
Before Jacob could protest further, a blaring noise outside his window attracted his attention. Sirens. He rushed over. Seven stories below him, on the street, he could see army jeeps driving toward the crowd. They skidded unprofessionally to a halt where the crowd was, and the doors burst open giving way to soldiers filing out. Relief momentarily flooded through Jacob at the sight of the soldiers. But that relief drained away as quickly as it had come as he watched, one of the soldiers, who seemed to be of some importance, walk toward one of the protestors and talked with him. There was no way Jacob could've heard what they were talking about, but he saw the protestor nod vigorously at the soldier, look up, and point to his window with the baseball bat he was holding. The soldier merely nodded back at the man and began walking toward the building, signaling his men to follow. A roaring sound, like rushing wind turned his head around. He looked at his door, and saw it intact just a moment before it burst into flames. The door still stood, but the hot flames flickering all across it would make it virtually inaccessible.  
"Mom! Dad!" He called, and idea suddenly occurring to him as he looked frantically back and forth from the window to the door. When he heard an acknowledgment coming from outside his room, he said, "Stand back from the walls of your room! I'm going to blast out of here! Is your room on fire?"  
"No!"  
"Ok!" "Here we go," he murmured.  
It would've been too risky to blast through the wall straight into the hallway directly outside of his room, but if he could get to his mother and father's room, which was adjacent to his; he would have access to their fire-escape.  
Jacob breathed once, looked at his wall, concentrated, and released his optic blast.


	5. Chapter 5

It didn't make sense. None of it. Why were they after him? What purpose was it to them to take the lives of those who were different – the lives of those who didn't make a choice to be different? _People are most afraid of what they don't understand._ Jacob didn't understand. He was only eight, after all. He just wanted to get away. He _needed_ to get away.

Jacob shielded his eyes from the splinters of wood that came flying at him due to his blast he directed at the wall. He looked back up. The wall had imploded to create a hole approximately five feet wide and about four feet tall. Jacob squinted to keep the dust out of his eyes, and squeezed through the opening. His mother and father were huddled in a corner on the far side of the room, so as to keep away from his blast. Relief flooded their faces as he practically collapsed into their arms, sobbing.

His mother was stroking his hair and saying, "It's alright," into his ear. Her voice could barely be heard above the crackling of the fire. _The fire._ The heat was getting more intense. Jacob barely had time to give his mother a final hug before a crashing sound was heard. It came from outside the room. _The door. The men!_ Jacob pulled away from his mother. It just didn't make sense. How could they have set the fire from the bottom of the building and still be up there with them? _They should've been burned to a crisp, by now! _Panic rose again, to a higher level than it already was, if that was even possible. His heart was pumping so fast that he thought it was going to explode. He turned to his parents.

"We need to get out of here! Can we use the fire-escape?" He didn't even wait for an answer. Crossing over to the other side of the room, he drew back the curtains and began to lift the window – his breath caught in his throat. There were up to five men already half way up the ladder leading to his parents' bedroom window. _Panic_. Jacob jolted away from the window in fear. Then he gathered his wits, slammed the window shut, and locked it tight. It probably wouldn't make any difference, but it would be something.

"Jacob, come over her-." Jacob's mom's voice was again drowned out by the sound of roaring flame. Following the flame was the sound of wall being torn down. _Why me. There are millions of mutants in the world, and they had to choose this house!_ The frightened boy rushed close to his parents again.

"We have to get out of here!" His father recapitulated. "Jacob, can you blast through this wall? We can get to the hallway, if it's not too hot!"  
"But, what about the men-?" _Crash!_ The wall in Jacob's bedroom was being torn down. The men would find the hole leading to this room soon.

"Stand back!" Jacob started to say, but it was not necessary. His parents were already backing up from the wall. Jacob focused his mind on the wall, and released his hold on his magnificent power. And again, the sound of rushing wind filled Jacob's ears as a river of blue matter was directed out of his eyes at the wall. Again, Jacob shielded his eyes. He was hit with a blast of rolling heat that nearly sent him off his feet. He screamed at the burning of the front of his body. His parents rushed forward to help him, and put out the flames that were developing on his shirt and the front of his pants.

Another_ crash_ was heard this time behind them as their other assailants beat the window to shards with clubs. Jacob and his parents suddenly lost fear of the fire in the hallway, and rushed into it. They moved fast so as to not get burned by the flames licking at them from the wall, ceiling, and floor. The men were close behind them but the family threw chairs, moved tables, and used whatever they could find that was not burning to bar their escape. The sound of the men shouting at them from behind was what pushed them on. The men that came through the window had to stop for fear of the heat. It was certainly clear on their faces that the pursued family would be driven to their deaths by way of fire anyway. However, the men that had originally come up the stair way had fire-fighting suits on. They chased on, and though the suits slowed them down, they were no less determined to catch the fleeing family.

The skin of Jacob and his family blistered severely, and they cried out in pain, but did not stop. It was not a big apartment, and they quickly found the door that led to the next apartment. Jacob didn't need to be told. He blasted straight through, and the family rushed in. Jacob got an idea then, and turned around to aim at the pursuers. He had never aimed at a person before, and was reluctant to even now, but they were chasing his family. He opened his eyes a little wider and-

"Stop!" Jacob whirled around to see his father. Before he could do anything, his father grabbed his arm and pulled him forward through to the next apartment. "You don't know how to control your power that well yet!" His father yelled as they ran. "You could miss and bring the whole building down!"

Jacob reached out as they ran and over-turned another chair. His mother was already at this apartment's window. She had grabbed a chair leg, and broken through the glass. His father moved her aside to kick out the excess so they would not be cut as they squeezed through. Jacob risked a glance around-and ducked as a wooden plank flew out of nowhere. The plank missed his head, but clipped his arm and he yelped. One of the attackers was coming through the burning door frame that Jacob had just blasted through. He resisted the urge to aim his eyes at the pursuer again. His father was right, it was too risky.

"Hurry!" He yelled in fear to his parents.

"Come on!" Jacob's father was holding out his hand to Jacob. His mother had already gone through the window and was climbing down the fire-escape. "Let's go, Jacob!" His father said to him, wanting him to go next.

Jacob reached out for his father's hand….and got a hand full of burning rubble. Part of the ceiling had collapsed and fallen right between he and his father. Jacob screamed again and dropped the molten wood and shingle. His hand was _burning._

"Jacob!" His father yelled and reached for him again, but by this time, the roof was ready to simply come down. Little bits and pieces came for an instant, and then about 25 feet of the roof groaned, sunk slightly then came crashing down on top of the two family members. His father just managed to escape by leaping backwards out the window, and grabbing onto one of the bars of the fire-escape.

Jacob wouldn't have made it out alive had not one of the attackers gotten across the room by then. Jacob was grasped sharply on the shoulder and thrown backwards. He flew for a second, then touched down on the burning floor and slid across it before slamming straight into something hard.

The last thing he remembered was a man's voice saying, "….wants him alive…." Then, he saw no more.


	6. Chapter 6

Jacob awoke to the rocking and bumping of a moving vehicle. The sound of a car engine accelerating filled his ears as he opened his eyes. The mutant boy blinked a few times to try and clear his head. He tried to turn his head to the right, but a sharp pain swarmed him immediately and prevented him from doing so. Then he was aware of the source of the pain. The back of his head was throbbing with increasing pressure, and he could feel a bump growing there when he tilted his head back and hit the back of a seat.

Then Jacob was aware of his surroundings. He was solidly strapped down to a seat in what appeared to be a moving army jeep. He couldn't move his hands apart because they were handcuffed together behind his back. Jacob wriggled and tried to free himself from the straps that were holding him in his sitting position, but to no avail. They were completely and utterly secure. Fear was rising steadily in the little boy. He tried to remember how he got here, but the last thing he remembered was…

"Mom! Dad!" He cried out in sudden remembrance.

Jacob began to breathe quicker, as panic welled closer to his internal release point. He struggled against his restraints again, the cuffs digging painfully into his wrists as he did so. Memories of previous events were flooding his mind, and he couldn't escape. He remembered how he and his family had fought through their burning apartment building, in an attempt to escape danger from both their pursuers and the fire. He remembered how he had wanted to shoot the oncoming man in the fire-fighting suit with his optic blasts, but had been stopped by his father. He remembered running for his life…and finally reaching the window. Escape had finally been within his reach…then darkness.

He had been captured. _No._ _We were so close!_ Jacob slowly turned his head to the left, pain swelling up again. He resisted the urge to bring his head back to its original position, and continued looking to the left. He was sitting in the middle of three seats in the back part of the jeep. The windows were not see-through as they were in Jacob's car. They looked black. He couldn't see outside.

"He's awake," A deep voice sounded from the front of the jeep.

The boy reflexively whipped his head back into position, and the internal hammer _pounded_ inside him. He cried out in pain.

The man sitting in the passenger's seat in front of him reached back, holding something black in his hand. The man held the object directly in front of Jacob's face. The boy flinched silently as the stranger opened up the object in front of him. It looked him like a pair of goggles - the kind that Jacob used to wear to go swimming at the pool. _Goggles?_ The man placed them, not too gently, over his eyes, and jerked the boy's head forward to strap the straps around the back of his head. Pain racked through Jacob's brain, but he refused to cry out in front of this man. These were the men that had captured him.

When the goggles were securely strapped to Jacob's head, the man turned back in his seat, leaving the frightened boy with his head hanging. Jacob slowly raised his head, trying to hold back the pain. It worked to some extent. He sighed with relief, at not having to feel that horrible pain again. After some time, Jacob finally found the courage to speak.

"Where are my parents?" He asked in a voice that sounded more frightened that he wanted it to.

"Shut up!" Came the nasty reply from the front.

At that, Jacob stayed silent. The rumbling and bumps of the Jeep moving over scarred terrain resumed it's place in and around Jacob with the silence.


	7. Chapter 7

The speeding jeep bumped roughly over what seemed to be boulders in their path, jolting Jacob in his seat. He hissed between his teeth to let out some of the pain in his head, but even that little effort afflicted him with discomfort. _I want out. I want to get out of here!_ He knew, however, that he would never get out of this situation by himself. Not with all the big, mean men all around him telling him what to do. He wanted to cry, but didn't allow himself. He wanted to scream and yell, but didn't indulge himself. The only way to get through this, he told himself, was to be calm. _Be calm and do what?_ He began to try to think of a way to get himself out of there, contrary to his previous beliefs of not being able to do such a thing by himself. Now that he took a deep breath and actually _thought, _he remembered seeing movies about his kind of thing. Some kid would be kid-napped, by some guy or guys throwing him in a van and driving off. Not very different from his situation actually. He had no idea of how he got in the jeep, but that didn't really make a difference. _The kids rarely knew how they got into the vans in the movies either._ He stopped thinking about how he got in the jeep, and thought back to the movies. After the kids were pushed into the vans they were driven to some location and blindfolded so they didn't know where they were. _Which is also what happened to me._ Then they were taken out of the van, and walked into a house, or something like it, until they could be ransomed for some insane amount of money. Jacob nodded to himself. _So they want money! Ok Jake, think. If they follow the movies like they've been doing, then they should stop soon, and walk me into some house where they will try to ransom me. That'll be my chance! I'll run away as fast as I can, and they won't be able to stop me!_

Good. Now he had a plan. This simple fact helped to take away some of the panic that he initially felt, and now all he had to do was wait.

Forty five minutes later, Jacob was close to bursting with anticipation. He was sweating profusely in the confines of the tight spot that he was in. Through the dark sheen of the goggles that he was wearing, he could just make out the man pointing to something past the windshield. Then, feeling the car beginning to slow down, he felt his heart begin to beat wildly. This was the time. Legs muscles tense, the little boy concentrated to release his optic blast if he needed to.

"Hey what's that!" The man in the front seat yelled out these words as if he already knew the answer to them.

A moment later Jacob was thrown forward into the back of the seat in front of him by a huge impact that had obviously affected the entire jeep. He looked up to see the glass that had previously been the windshield was now shattered and cracked in many places. The two men sitting in the front seat were slumped over the dashboard and moaning softly. _Unconscious…what in the world…._

For the first time in the entire trip, Jacob was able to see outside. They were in an isolated place, as far as he could tell, and it was still night time. He could barely make out anything else through his dark goggles, but he could still hear….

The sound of cars rumbling or crashing to stops was filling the previous silence, and Jacob realized that he was not alone in this trip. He was part of a convoy. Jacob's face wrinkled with deep thought. He had to get out of here. It was passed time now…with some effort, he let loose a rush of energy from his eyes, expecting it to blast through the goggles and part of the car. Instead, he found that he was staring, for a split second, at the blue energy itself. It retracted back into him…inducing a feeling he had never felt before. _The goggles_. So he couldn't use his power. The emotion received when someone looses control over something flooded through Jacob in the mortifying seconds that came next.

The sharp, beating sound of rapid gunfire came ripping through the air to Jacob's ears. He heard the sound of men screaming, barking commands, and also very peculiar sounds…one of which that was the very same noise that was made when he shot an optic blast. _What could that be?_ As he wondered what the answer to this question was, he heard the weirdest sound of all. This time it came from directly next to him on his right: _bamf!_

"Ah!" Jacob exclaimed as he whipped his head to the right to see what had caused all the blue smoke…and met the eyes of what he thought was one of the ugliest things he had ever seen in his life.

"Guten Tag!" Said the thing in a very German accent, and Jacob was too paralyzed to respond as it wrapped its arms around him and disappeared in another cloud of smoke, leaving the scent of sulfur and brimstone to sink in to the interior of the previously occupied jeep.


	8. Chapter 8

Jacob was surrounded by a dozen different faces all at once. At least it seemed like a dozen. He barely had time to think. The blue smoke that had overcome him only moments ago was now evaporating seemingly into thin air, and the smell was fading away. Jacob also noticed that the thing that had grabbed him in the jeep was now speaking to another person some distance away.

The frightened boy took a look around. Everything was so clean…so professional looking. He had absolutely no idea of where he was, but it seemed to be the interior of an airplane of some sort. Jacob had only been inside an airplane twice in his life, and he had slept through both of the flights, so he never got the opportunity to look around the plane. However he did recognize the plainness of the environment to belong to some sort of vehicle.

Jacob breathed in and out to try to calm himself, but it didn't work. Now that he looked about him, he realized that there were only three people staring at him. One of these was a beautiful looking lady with shocking red hair, and a smooth face. She was dressed in a brightly colored, one-piece suit that gave the impression of combat rather than elegance. Despite this, Jacob realized she made him feel better for some reason…sort of reminded him of his mother. There seemed to be care in her eyes, and an aura of kindness in the way she acted.

The other two beings were male, he thought: one was scruffy looking, gruff, muscular, and frightening. His mouth was set into an apparent position of grim determination, and his face looked slightly unshaven, the black stubs of hair roughly flecking his square chin and covering his head in a mess. There was grit and grime on his yellow and black striped uniform, making dark, dirty splotches all over the garment. Jacob guessed he had been part of the mayhem that he had heard of from inside the car. The second was harder to distinguish as male in gender, particularly because he had sapphire colored fur covering him from head to toe, instead of skin. He looked more like a blue gorilla than any person, but even his face emitted a sense of kindness and care. Jacob noticed his feet and arms more than anything, considering they were all oversized…he also saw that this one also had a uniform of some kind.

Above all, Jacob now felt that his fear had drained away. The horror of being in the control of someone he had never met before was replaced by feelings of familiarity towards these people. It seemed that they were almost family to him, and somehow they looked like they felt it too. As Jacob examined the faces of these "strangers," he began to understand why.

_Mutants. _

They had to be. Why else would he feel as if he belonged with them, and was rightfully in their company? As Jacob contemplated this he saw the blue creature turn to the young woman abruptly, as if she had spoken. She looked straight into his eyes, and Jacob thought he saw the faintest nod of acknowledgement from the blue man immediately before he turned and walked in the direction of the other creature that had taken Jacob here. There was no doubt in the boy's mind that he was a mutant. That was the absolutely only way that a man could look like that.

The gruff looking man also turned and walked past Jacob, muttering a comment softly to him, "It's alright now, kid."

The only one who stayed with Jacob was the kind looking woman with the red hair. She crouched down to his level, and spoke softly.

"My name is Jean Grey," she said. "I'm a doctor at-"

"Are you a mutant too?" Jacob interrupted. He frowned upon hearing his own voice. It was surprisingly calm.

Jean Grey smiled at him patiently. "That's right. We are all mutants here. Don't worry, we're friends."

Jacob opened his mouth again to ask one of the many questions on his mind, but was answered first:

"You are on a jet headed for Westchester, New York. Have you ever heard of the Xavier Institute for Higher Learning?"

"Yes…my parents talked about sending me there. Why are we going there? I thought was a school for really big kids. Where-"

"I don't know where your parents are, but I'm sure they're safe."

Jacob breathed an inward sigh of relief. Something about hearing a statement of fact from this woman was soothing, as if there was no reason to doubt it. "Hey, how did you know what I was going to ask?"

The woman smiled again. "As I said before, Jacob, we're all mutants here." She added quickly, "But we use our powers to help people, not hurt them. That's how we found you."

"Hey how do you know my na- oh yeah….you came to rescue me?"

"If you can call making a direct assault on a mutant genetic and experimental research facility rescuing you," the dirty looking man had returned, and was standing immediately behind Jacob as he spoke the words in his gruff voice.

The boy whirled around to look up at him. He was actually quite short, he realized, but very stocky.

The man glanced back down at him for a short second, and then looked up at the woman kneeling on the floor. "Kids – think the world revolves around 'em. Anyway, storm says we're ten minutes away, Red, and she needs you up there for a sec."

Jean only nodded, and watched him walk back to the place he came from. "When we found you, we were staging another rescue from a place where they were keeping more people like you. That's where those men were taking you."

Jacob looked down at the floor. "Because I'm a mutant…. What were they going to do to me?"

This time Jean looked at the floor. When her gaze returned to the boy's face, something flickered in her eyes. "It's alright now, Jacob. You're with us now. We'll take care of you."

He watched as she stood and walked easily away.


End file.
